


have i told you lately?

by swishandflickwit



Series: The Devil's Lucky Number [28]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe KNOWS, Deckerstar - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, alternatively: the sort-of-first i love yous, deckerstar fanfiction, lucifer vs feelings, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 18:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18744622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swishandflickwit/pseuds/swishandflickwit
Summary: “Lucifer’s staring at us,” Ella comments.“Correction,” Dan flits in, passing her a case file. “He’s staring atChloe.Been doing it all week, actually.”In which Lucifer gathers his courage and Chloe sees right through him.





	have i told you lately?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Have I Told You Lately by Rod Stewart (but I listened to this [version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0kd7zuQIV4) for the fic).
> 
> This one is for everyone reading this right now. To all my readers—new and old, who stuck by me, through the ups and downs, the weirds and wonderfuls. Ya'll filled my heart with gladness and it was an absolute honor writing for you. This is the most I've ever committed to a project and I can say with absolute confidence that a huge chunk of my motivation came from every comment, kudos and bookmark you gave me.
> 
> Consider this my love letter to _you._

“You’re staring.”

 “Am not,” he huffs. But the Devil is not as skilled at subterfuge as he likes to believe, raising his book to conceal his face just as their eyes meet.

Case-in-point.

“Right,” she drawls, amused.

She lets him have it for now.

* * *

They’re at work when it happens again.

She doesn’t need to look to confirm that his dark gaze is intent on her face. She blushes even as she asks, with admirable nonchalance, “Something on my face?”

This time, when she _does_ risk a glance, it’s _his_ cheeks that are red.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

She smirks.

“Uh huh.”

To conceal his embarrassment, he testily retorts, “Actually, now that you’ve mentioned it, you _do_ have something on your teeth—” he lifts a pinkie to point at his own pearly whites to indicate the approximate location of her presumed gunk, “garishly brown, and utterly _un_ attractive for a woman of your caliber. You better lay off those quesadillas, detective—”

“Asshole,” she grunts, assailing him with a handful of his cool ranch puffs— _hypocrite._

She covertly consults her compact, anyway.

Just in case.

* * *

 “Lucifer’s staring at us,” Ella comments unnecessarily.

“Correction,” Dan flits in, passing the forensic scientist a case file. “He’s staring at _Chloe._ Been doing it all week, actually.”

The women throw him a startled glance.

“What?” he squawks, affronted. “I pay attention!”

“Something you’re not telling us, Dan?” Chloe ribs.

“Oh, you’re not getting out of this by turning it on me. Besides, _he—_ ” he lifts a subtle but pointed thumb in Lucifer’s direction, “—is too far gone for _you_ to pay anyone else any attention.”

“Yeah, Decker. What gives?” Ella hugs her. “You guys okay?”

Chloe pats reassuringly at her back.

“We’re good. Better than, even. We’re _great._ ”

And they really are—so much that there are days when even _she_ can’t believe their luck.

“Then… why does he keep looking at you like he’s both a kicked puppy and a wolf out for revenge?” Dan places his hands on his hips, head tilted in genuine perplexity. Ella withdraws her embrace, only to perfectly mirror his stance so she’s confronted by _two_ bloodhounds ever relentless in their quest for the truth, or rather—all the sordid details of her, admittedly _exciting,_ love life.

 “I imagine he’s just psyching himself up.”

“For what?”

They practically salivate.

(Honestly, they’re worse than a couple of middle-aged, suburban soccer moms)

But Chloe just smiles.

* * *

In the end, it happens quite by accident.

It’s a school night, and at this point it isn’t uncommon for Lucifer to follow her to her apartment an hour or so after they part ways at the precinct—lugging a bag of groceries to her kitchen, his jacket and waistcoat abandoned, but neatly hung, in her coat closet.

At Trixie’s request, they are making pizza from scratch when an argument evolves on the merits of pineapple on a pizza, in which Lucifer is for it and the Deckers, neutral—until they see how much it riles him up. The better part of the waiting is spent loudly arguing (Lucifer), dissolving into giggles (Trixie) and playing Devil’s advocate (Chloe).

Suffice to say, dinner is burnt.

“Pineapple— _not_ a veritable topping?” he scoffs. “You’re lucky I love you both.”

It’s a quiet mutter. Innocuous and without thought—as if it is simply _truth._

_His_ truth.

Trixie’s eyes widen. “Did you just—?”

“Order enough pineapple-topped pizzas to feed an army?”

Lucifer fiddles with his phone, no doubt cashing in a favor as Trixie stares up at him with stunned—albeit amused—awe, and unparalleled affection.

Chloe winks at her while Lucifer protests their conspiring chortles for reasons they refuse to divulge.

* * *

It’s when he falls asleep before her, a kiss to his forehead, that she whispers to him.

“I love you, too.”

She’s never needed Lucifer to say it aloud, yet he seems hinged on its importance. But, until he’s ready, his presence is enough. After all—

She all ready knows.

**Author's Note:**

> One more fic—and day—to go...


End file.
